


use your hands and my spare time

by Shespitsfire



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Casual Sex (but is it though), Complicated Relationships, F/M, Idiots Who Don't Know How To Be In Love, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, dysfunction junction, this was a one shot for like four days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-11-26 01:23:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shespitsfire/pseuds/Shespitsfire
Summary: Perhaps, he thinks, one or both of them will someday become bored by it. The next time, or the time after that.But tonight isn’t the next time.





	1. I got my heart (scars) right here

It’s obvious--in the practiced way she removes his armor with desperate hands, and the exacting pressure his teeth place on her neck--that they’ve done this before. 

In a way, it’s become almost routine. Perhaps, he thinks, one or both of them will someday become bored by it. The next time, or the time after that. Then these instances will cease to exist, and she will disappear back into the world alone. 

But tonight isn’t the next time. And in all the times that Kagura’s ended up splayed across his bed, dark hair and pale skin and blood-red eyes, he’s never been able to understand what it is that she’s begging for. 

Because she  _ is _ begging. With every drag of her nails, each push of her throat against his teeth, each piece of fabric that falls to the floor. Though it’s not always her who seeks him out, she is always the one who leaves covered in bites and bruises and sore muscles.

She’s the one who twists and cries-- _ please, please _ \-- the moment just before they slide apart. 

Tonight, things aren’t any different. His forehead presses up against her shoulder, pushing her back down into the blankets with every jut. A scar on her skin, just above the curve of her breast, ghosts across his lips with every movement--that’s from the first time, when he bit down so hard that her blood stained the sheets. She’d cursed, threatened him for it. As one expected. But every time since, she grips the back of his neck and pulls him down harder. 

So sometimes he wonders. 

Kagura is always so cold, even after he’s spent long hours driving her into some piece of furniture or another. If it’s part of being an elemental demon, he couldn’t say--and he wouldn’t ask. Like everything else he notices about her, it is a simple little mystery to think on whenever he can’t sleep at night. Not an opportunity to get to know her better, of course. 

Because knowing her better might mean losing interest. 

Tonight, the traditions they follow remain. Except for one thing.

She’s quiet. 

In all the times their paths cross, she never loses an opportunity for conversation. Picking at him over imagined slights, mockery, shameless flirting that loses bravado as soon as he actually takes her up on it. On nights like this, her voice fills the halls of his castle and lingers in his mind long after she’s flown away. Holding back is not something either one of them value. 

So the silence is unnerving. Even more so in that nothing else appears different.

Curious, he lifts his head to look at her. Both of the wind witch’s eyes are squeezed shut; her lips rest open, though the breath that stutters through them is shallow. When his stillness has registered for a moment too long, she cracks one blood-red pupil at him. 

He waits to see if she will tell him of her own accord what’s wrong. That’s the way that will be easiest for both of them. 

After a long moment, her nails pierce his arms. It’s a demand that he continue (but the layer beyond that, the  _ begging _ part, remains elusive). Frustration knots with the arousal in his stomach; she’s the one changing things up on him. So why isn’t she saying anything? 

Experimentally, he presses back into her in a slow, languid movement. Kagura’s chest heaves, but her frown deepens.

“Not like that.” The words are soft coming from her lips. Her other eye opens, and then she’s meeting his gaze fully. Something angry and bitter swims in her expression; once again, he’s annoyed at such hypocrisy. If she wants things to remain as they are, then why is she acting like this? 

With both hands, she draws long scratches down to his elbows. They both know that despite the pressure behind it, his skin will be unmarred by the time the moon has dropped in the sky. In comparison, hers require a full day to disappear. The question of whether she is jealous of such opacity has crossed his mind once or twice. Now, he answers her violence with bared teeth. 

“Just don’t do it like...” Her hands and voice both fall away. 

None of this makes  _ sense _ . 

Her eyes slide away to some other part of the room, unfocused, before she finally looks at him again. Her voice is steady, if still soft. 

“Not like you love me.” 

Air blows in through the open window, sending several of the pieces of clothing on the floor skittering. In the stream of moonlight that carves through the bedsheets, Sesshomaru’s face is solid as stone. 

Kagura barely has time to inhale before his hips drive into hers again. As she cries out, the tension in his head eases; instead of bracing his forehead against her skin again, he latches onto the side of her neck, biting down on the same mark from earlier in the night. 

Thankfully, that seems to do the trick. The wind witch beneath him squirms, curses. 

“Please--” 

He only has to hear it once. 

Even if he doesn’t know what it means. 

Even if her words will bother him tomorrow morning. 

Even if he doesn’t really have a  _ reason _ for it to be bothersome.

Because if she shakes, and he bites just a little too hard, and blood stains her neck, then there will be a next time. 


	2. only for the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm legit terrified that adding to this will wreck it, but I guess if that's true then y'all will tell me.

_ Just don’t do it like you love me. _

The words sit heavily on the sheets, long after Kagura herself has departed. In the dark, Sesshomaru grits his teeth at them, as well as the second half of the sentiment that she didn’t voice. 

_ Because you don’t.  _

Maybe she has every reason to believe that their trysts are just two beings trying to find some mutual pleasure in the midst of life’s atrocities. That it’s no more of a waste of his time than anything else he could be doing. That she’s been chosen out of convenience.

Foolish minds believe many things. That doesn’t make them true. 

The sun still lurks beneath the horizon; once it rises, he will dress and continue about his day as though the previous night never happened. But when the stars streak across the sky again, because they always do and always will, then his mind will return to her words, over and over again. 

* * *

Weeks later, she’s perched on the balcony, dressed in moonlight. His collection of servant yokai have retired for Summer Solstice celebrations, leaving the castle empty. It was obvious she would choose such a night to appear. The window is open before she’s finished giving a few gentle taps on the pane. 

All very much as usual. 

But the churning in his stomach that comes from her heavily lidded gaze -- well, that’s _ far  _ from usual. 

“Miss me?” Smirking, Kagura breezes in, fingers already untying her obi. Dark slashes of hair drape her shoulders, a few strands weaving into the neck of her kimono. It’s strangely magnetic, the way her red eyes seem to burn violet in the darkness. Sesshomaru shakes the thought from his head, cursing the fact that it’s the kind of foolishly poetic thing that his father might have said about some woman somewhere.

Instead, he pulls at the fabric to bare her shoulder. Kagura rises on her tiptoes so he can press his teeth against the skin, sighing in his ear. Wind sends the shutters of the window banging against the wall. Neither of them makes a move to address it. 

Her hands sneakily loosen the ties that hold his swords to his side as she hisses, “I thought you’d come find me if I waited long enough. Guess I shouldn’t have tried to best you at such a game.” 

The retort he usually gives--that she  _ expects _ \--doesn’t come; unnerved, her hands falter in their ministrations. Sesshomaru takes the opportunity to drive her towards the bed, letting her fall in a heap of clothes and loose hair. 

“Hey--” she looks at him, frustrated in all ways. Relief smooths her features as he pulls off the pauldron and swords, and she mirrors his actions with her own clothing. 

Then they’re pressed skin to skin. It’s all very routine, from the chill of her thighs resting over his hips to the sting of her teeth on his throat--except that the latter sends that annoying feeling in his stomach going again. 

When he pulls away with a sharp exhale of breath, Kagura whines. She’s begging again, for something that she won’t actually say, and tonight it’s more than just confusing--it pisses him off. 

Her intake of breath is stopped short as his hand rests over her throat. Scarlet eyes widen, even though he’s not putting any weight on it, and the look she gives him is almost content. Sesshomaru uses the grip to push her head to one side, so her cheek rests against the mattress. Cool fingers press into his shoulders as she mouths something akin to his name. 

The first bite against the stretch of skin makes Kagura keen. In just a few minutes a line of them bloom, like rosy flowers painted onto a white backdrop, from the curve of her shoulder to just below her ear. Looking at them darken on her skin sends Sesshomaru’s head spinning. His hand leaves her throat to press into the mattress, claws puncturing the fabric. 

Squirming, Kagura jerks her hips to try and encourage him. Things are on the edge of shifting now; he never takes his time with her. There’s never been a point to it. The marks they leave on each other usually don’t serve more than a momentary purpose. A single point of pleasure. 

Temporary. 

But tonight, looking at her with bruises tracing the curve of her flesh, he wonders what it looks like to others who may see them. If they think such things mean that she is his. 

If they think he is hers. 

“Seriously,” she snaps, dragging his attention back. Her nails gouge his sides, trying to pull his body closer. “Can’t you brood some other time?” 

Had she had been wondering about such things, weeks ago, when she had been so silent? Narrowing his eyes, he pushes hard at her hips, holding them down against the bed and away from what she wants. Sighing in frustration, her glare turns poisonous. 

His mouth firms into a frown. “Ask me.” 

“Excuse me?” 

For a moment, he thinks she’s going to spit in his face. 

“Ask for what it is that you want.” 

Things will never go back to their normal way, and it’s  _ her  _ fault. It’s because of  _ her  _ that he can’t follow the script from all the times before--driving inside her body until the heat in his blood cools, content with only casual wonderings about all her mysteries. 

Tonight, at least he’ll know what it is she’s always begging for. 

Breathing heavily, Kagura blinks up into his own steady gaze. She’s in no position to up and leave, even if she wanted to. The marks on her neck are still obvious even in the darkness, and where their hips meet it’s clear that she’s desperate. Hands flit from his sides to his back, and she swears loudly. 

“ _ Please touch me _ ,” she finally breathes, anger lacing her tone like pieces of broken glass. 

For a moment he thinks that’s all. 

But then, perhaps she panics, in the moment when he’s thinking it over instead of moving forward to do what she’s asked. More words, rushed and frenzied, fill his ears. 

“ _ Please, _ just want me, you don’t want me except like this, even if it’s not--” 

Her words cut off as he moves over her, finally locking their hips together. Kagura presses her face against his neck and curses. Nails on both her hands scratch at any part of him that she can reach. His own hands fist against the mattress; even as the haze of lust fills his mind, he knows.

It was foolish to have pushed her. She’ll come down from her high pissed off and humiliated, and then she will leave. 

And this will be the last time. 

He doesn’t want to care. 

* * *

When they’ve both stopped shaking, she punches at his chest until he rolls off of her. Furiously, she dances around the room snatching up her clothes, putting on only the outermost kimono and bundling the rest under her arm. 

“What the fuck was all that about,” she snaps in the bed’s general direction, refusing to look directly at him. As though  _ she  _ isn’t the one whose heart has bled all over the room. 

Sesshomaru doesn’t answer. Kagura drags a hand across her face, and he wonders if she’s crying.  She cried the first time, too. Not in front of him, of course, but as she was flying away. He could smell it on the edge of the wind. 

“People say strange things when they’re in bed with someone,” she says, voice hollow. “Don’t think anything of it.” 

He shouldn’t have made her say it. But hadn’t she basically been saying it all the time, just never in words? Because she had known, too. She  _ knew _ this would happen. 

The edge of her kimono drags across the bites he gave her as she knots her obi. She visibly winces. His stomach lurches again, and the sensation itself isn’t as unpleasant as the knowledge that once the bites fade, that he will not have a chance to replace them. 

That she won’t let him, now. 

“Asshole...” Stomping towards the window, she turns to give him one last glare. As he thought, her eyes are wet, though she’s clearly trying to hold it back. “I hope those damn swords stab you to death in your sleep.” 

With that, he’s left alone. 


	3. take you down another level

It’s been almost three months since the last time. Summer has swelled, giving him much more to think about than the wind witch. The heat of the season riles up demons into a frenzy of self-importance and unchecked rage. Each week, Sesshomaru is in a different part of the West, squashing those factions foolish enough to try and disturb his territory’s careful peace. 

The routine is welcome, but so fucking  _ tedious _ . 

Blood and dominance just won’t quell the tension in his gut. It’s to the point that he’s concerned about snapping on the wrong person, and causing some kind of political incident. So, when all the emergencies of the season cease for an evening, he orders Jaken out on some made-up errand and heads the opposite way in search of Kagura. 

It’s her fault, anyway. And it’s not the first time he’s sought her out in the middle of the forest unexpectedly. So there’s nothing to make this situation embarrassing for him. 

Although, when they finally meet and she rolls her eyes at him as if he is some half-brained suitor who can’t take a hint, it definitely stings. 

“Sesshomaru. What do you want?” 

The blood staining his robes (all from others _ ,  _ obviously) doesn’t appear to cause alarm. And when he walks towards her, sleeves brushing against the foliage, Kagura doesn’t make a move to leave. However, her expression remains guarded. The playfulness is gone, which is fine--he has no interest in such things. What really annoys him is that there is no trace of desire in her expression. 

After all this time apart. 

For all the nights he’s spent walking the hills, trying and failing not to think about it.

“Still doing the creepy silent thing, huh?” 

When he’s close enough to see the gentle rise and fall of her chest, he stops. The intention that he had leaving the castle today was to scold her. Remind her that all this was her doing--she shouldn’t have made him wonder about such things that would only ruin them. 

But standing in front of her, all Sesshomaru can focus on is the smooth, unmarred column of her throat. 

_ Mine.  _

His hand grips her jaw, none too gently. Kagura’s fingers close over his wrist; in the briefest of flashes, her face falls into a familiar expression of wanting. So she  _ does  _ still feel around him; she has just become quite talented in hiding it. 

“Don’t do me any favors,” she snarls sarcastically, and the tone is quite impressive despite the scent of arousal that’s coming off her. If he was a different sort of being, he might give in and disappear, just to buoy her confidence in such a display of false indifference. 

Instead, his free hand palms her side to pull her forwards. With his back against the tree and her pressed up against his front, they are drenched in shadows, even though the sun has not finished setting. Kagura’s jaw ticks under his grip. 

“What do you  _ want _ ,” she sighs, pressing both hands against the bark. He wonders if her fingers are itching to dance just a few inches over. The complex knots and twists of his armor should still be easy for her to remove, with all the practice she’s had. 

He’s trying to think of what to say in response-- _ what do I want? What we had, what was easy to follow, this body against that body. _ Then his claw traces her bottom lip, purely by accident, and Kagura jerks forward. 

Their mouths meet roughly; despite all the time they've spent together, kisses have been few and far between. At this moment, he can’t think of why. Then it’s all a blur--she moans into his mouth, he pushes past the folds of her clothing to press into giving flesh--of gold and orange streaking across the sky. The wind witch flings both arms around his shoulders, slamming him against the tree. He’s trying to unknot her obi, but her hips keep canting into his hands and there’s not enough room--

“ _ Kagura _ .” 

She gasps in surprise. Not at what he says, but how he says it. Of course she would recognize it. The same sound that’s come between them many times before.

Except now she isn’t the one who is begging. 

* * *

Darkness has fully sunken over them when they finally stop to rest. Kagura lays in the grass, prodding the bruises necklaced over her collarbone with one hand. Beside her, Sesshomaru sits with his back to the tree. The constant stress and vigilance of the last few weeks finally settles, now that he’s able to breathe. He frowns, despising the weight of exhaustion. How weak it feels. 

“So.” Kagura pulls the edge of the fabric down, covering the mark that decorates her thigh. “Does it matter?” 

It’s unclear what she means, and he’s above asking directly for clarification. The silence lingers until Kagura’s face turns red and she snaps, “What I said, before. Does it not matter to you, then? I’m sure you haven’t forgotten about it.”

If she’s talking about that pathetic thing about being wanted, then no. He hasn’t forgotten. But he’s not going to talk about it, because he doesn’t. Want her, that is. In any way--well, except the one. He’s not capable of anything else. 

“You know glaring at me doesn’t mean I can hear your thoughts, right? Ugh, never mind…” She presses the folds of her kosode between her thighs; she’s still shaking. He wonders briefly if he’s hurt her, then dismisses the thought. If that were the case, Kagura would certainly have said so. Loudly, and with no tact to speak of, because she's Kagura. 

“Why did you say my name like that?” 

Had he spoken aloud, just now? Brow furrowing, he locks golden eyes on her. “What?” 

“Before. When you were ripping my obi in half.” The twist of her lips shows she’s immediately regretting asking the question, but as is her nature, Kagura presses on. “You said my name weird.”

“You heard what you wanted to hear.” It’s a cruel thing to say, and from the way her face burns red, she knows it too. But it’s the only thing that makes sense, even though it doesn’t. 

Then her lips curl into a smirk, which immediately puts him on edge. 

“Is that right,” she chuckles, standing. The fabric wrapped around her body dips, and even in the night he can see the marks left on her upper arms, her thighs, her collarbone. Two fingers press into the bruise he’d noticed earlier, several inches above her left knee. “Were these all me, as well? Or perhaps you were taking pity on me? Although that’s not like you at all…”

Turning, she lets the remains of her clothing pool around her ankles. “No, it’s not like  _ you,  _ a wise and noble dog demon, to skulk through this forest just to find and fuck me. Not when you could just as easily have someone else. But clearly I’m the one who’s attached _ . _ ”

Irritation floods through his veins, burning the marks slashed across each cheek. Her sarcasm is infuriating; she _was_ the one who begged first. What’s the point of turning the tables like this? They both know that he could leave any time, forget about her completely. 

Because he _doesn’t care_. 

“Hypocrite.” That infernal smirk widens at his frustration. “Is it possible that you only want this if it’s with me?” 

No, he doesn’t. Why he can’t just say it? Tell her she’s nothing, except a warm body and a way to pass the time. Something he’s become accustomed to. 

A routine.

Breaking her heart is easy, since she’s always met him halfway there in the first place. She’s never been bold enough to accuse him so confidently of wanting her back. What’s caused the change, he couldn’t say, but with it comes that infernal stomach-churning. 

Somehow, Kagura’s outer kimono ends up back over her shoulders, shielding the marks from him. Her face finally drops back into a neutral expression. “All right, stop looking so pissed off. I’m done teasing. For now, at least…” 

He doesn’t realize that he’s been digging both claws into the ground until the smell of poison reaches his nose. Shaking his nails free of dirt, he watches her walk off into the trees, probably in search of a spring where she can wash off the evidence of their tryst. It doesn’t appear that she cares whether he remains, or goes back to the castle.  Good; she used to be so casual, before. Things can be their usual way again. 

Except it feels all wrong. 

He growls loudly, squinting into the dark to see where the damn witch threw his pauldron. 

This was supposed to  _ relax  _ him, damn it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WANT YOU TO KNOW: this was the most frustrating chapter I've ever written of anything, ever. I've been working on this for a week and still am unsure about it.


	4. need it all to myself

“Hey,” Kagura hisses in his ear. Her voice strains from how close she is. The tree he’s pressed them up against shakes, sending a cloud of leaves raining down around them. “Someone’s watching us.”

Her scent is drowning him, hot and heavy; his head pounds with lust, and it’s nearly too much. Pressing his forehead to hers so that their eyes meet, he snarls, “I don’t _ care _.” 

The wind witch shakes, though he doesn’t smell any fear on her. Red lips twist into a smirk. Then her hips open up even more for him.

He growls, claws digging into soft, giving flesh. 

She answers with a high, loud moan that rings around the forest.

_ She’s showing off. _

It’s foolish, dangerous even--but he can tell her that afterwards. For now, he can’t think straight with the haze she’s put him in. 

Which is a serious problem.

Because it used to mean nothing if they went weeks, even months without meeting. Now every few days, he finds himself stalking through the forest, desperate to push Kagura up against something and sheathe himself inside her. 

Eventually, someone in his life is going to find out and then make a big deal about it. Jaken, the half-breed, his mother. Whoever is over in the bushes watching them. But for as long as he’s existed, Sesshomaru has no shame for believing he deserves what it is he wants. 

And what he wants, a fair amount of the time, is this. 

Despite her increasing pitch, Kagura manages to hold off on breaking apart until after he does first. It’s an inane game that she likes to play; despite the pointlessness of it, he occasionally indulges her, trying his best to push her over the edge before taking his own turn. This time, he lets go. With heavy breaths his body slams against the tree. Kagura twists and cries out beneath him a minute later.

When the spots clear, he relaxes his hold. Nimble fingers curl around his shoulders as she slides down the trunk of the tree, thighs still minutely quivering. Sesshomaru’s left arm stays against her waist as he turns to glare at the spy. 

_ Hm. _

He actually has no idea who this man is. From the scent and appearance, it’s clearly some kind of nature spirit. Long, dark hair easily fades into moss-covered branches, and the hands dangling uselessly by his sides end in bark-colored claws. However, what sends the yokai in the Western Lord’s blood boiling is the look of pure rage and insult on the man’s face. 

“I tried to tell you,” Kagura says. Sesshomaru turns to look at her, wondering if the vigor of their actions muddled her brain enough to forget that yes, he answered her when she pointed the spy out to him. But she stares past him, her expression haughty and a little smug. 

“You...you…” The creature’s hands mold into fists as he steps forward. “_ Bitch!” _

“Hey, I said a dozen times that I wasn’t interested,” she retorts; the man’s insult seems to have no effect, which makes him wonder if this creature has leveled it against her before. “Besides, you’re the one who stayed to look.” 

The creature seethes, spitting more crude labels at the wind witch. Sesshomaru narrows his eyes in annoyance; if she’s going to use him like this, then she should at least prepare him beforehand. She blinks up at him with amusement, clearly not sorry at all. 

“You’d rather be this demon’s fucktoy than an esteemed and respected nature spirit’s wife? What’s _ wrong _with you?” 

Pulling away from Sesshomaru’s grip, Kagura slides the rest of the way down the tree to settle at the roots. The way she folds her kimonos over one another is almost prim. “If this is how you talk to women you’d like to marry, then anyone could see why I’ve turned you down so many times.” 

The creature growls at her, and something in Sesshomaru’s head begins to throb. He’s obviously lost; why make such a pathetic fuss over it? Besides, it’s not like arguing with Kagura ever does anything when her mind has been made up. 

“He doesn’t give a shit about you,” the nature spirit snarls. His angry stare turns on Sesshomaru’s back. “You’re just a warm body to rut against.”

Kagura laughs, loud and bone-chillingly harsh. “You had a front row seat to how I feel about _ that _.” 

He doesn’t know if that comment is what shreds the rest of the creature’s single-threaded self-control, or if it’s something else he hasn’t been made privy to. Whatever it seems to be, suddenly there’s a sword in the nature spirit’s hand, and he’s started towards her. 

A grin splits her face. Kagura’s fan slides from her sleeve, and with a sharp twist, the creature is blown back by an angry wind. He screeches as he crashes to the ground, several bark nails splintering off.

“Serves you right!” 

“Kagura.” Grabbing her arm, Sesshomaru hauls her up. “Stop playing around.” 

“I’m _ not, _” she snaps back, shoving her fan back into place. “He’s the one who started the fuss. I didn’t even try to trick him into showing up here, it was just dumb luck.” 

“Enough.” His glare is only met with a pout. Even now, despite his better judgment and annoyance, _ even now _, the urge to throw her down and give her better things to do with that smart mouth rises in the daiyokai’s blood. 

Something is definitely wrong with him. 

Hand still tight on her wrist, he turns. Kagura lets herself be dragged. Perhaps she prefers it to chasing; or maybe she just wants to leave the furious nature spirit behind. For his part, the creature continues to curse at them, scrabbling against a bevy of thorns and dead branches. 

Fine. If she wants games, then she’ll have to content herself with scandalizing the servants in his castle.

* * *

“You have way too much energy,” she sighs, sinking deeper into the bath. A ring of purple graces her neck; the starry-eyed look she’d given him when he’d made those marks still burns in the back of Sesshomaru’s mind. “I made a bet with Hakudoshi once that you didn’t have to sleep if you didn’t want to. Should’ve bargained something interesting for it, since I turned out to be right...” 

He doesn’t reply; he’s trying to figure out how to ask the question that’s been plaguing him all day. Luckily, she didn’t seem to find it strange when he remained after showing her to the bathing room of the castle--the sight of so much fresh, hot water indoors garnered all of Kagura’s attention. 

“What’s on your mind, then?” Red eyes slide shut, as her chin dips down into the froth. Steam wreathes from the water to swirl around his neck, making him uncomfortably warm. 

“Do you enjoy being hurt?” 

_ That _smile splits her face--the one that he’s starting to think she puts on to hide something else. Kagura turns, resting both arms on the side of the bath and propping her chin on top.

“You mean these?” She tilts her head toward the scratches on her forearm. He nods stiffly. “I have a body now that’s mine and mine alone. Pleasure and pain are nice reminders of that, even if they fade quickly. I choose them, not simply suffer them.” 

“Hm.” 

“You surprise me.” 

Gold eyes narrow. “What do you mean?” 

“You don’t usually ask questions about other people.” Pink tongue darts out, licking her lips, as she sinks back into the bubbles. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re turning curious about me.” 

This, again. He growls, and Kagura rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever. You’re actually just a boring, bad-tempered warlord with not enough sense to appreciate me. Happy now?” 

He’s about to retort, when something occurs to him. The obnoxious twisting in his stomach sharpens painfully. 

Some time ago, she’d told him not to touch her as though he loved her. Which he didn’t--_ doesn’t _. Their trysts aren’t soft or careful, because it’s not in his nature, and neither one of them has found cause to complain. But that’s the problem, isn’t it. If such gentleness isn’t possible for him in the first place, then…

How would making love to her be any different than what he does to her now? 

Kagura cups her hands in the water and splashes her face; if she notices Sesshomaru’s inner spiral, she’s choosing not to engage. Good. Because if she ever suspects it--that, perhaps, in his own way, he’s been making love to her this whole time--then he will never live it down. 

“Leave this place when you’re finished.” To his relief, the words come out sounding as cold and normal as possible. Kagura frowns, but for once, doesn’t argue. 

He leaves the fortress moments after she’s gone, searching for something to rip apart. If it isn’t possible to rip the weak, _ senseless _ feelings from his body, then parting another’s flesh from bone will have to do. By the time his robes are stained with blood, his head is clear enough not to wonder about such things anymore. 

The infernal pain, however, remains. 

* * *

Kagura settles carefully in the highest branches of her favorite tree. Up here, she can see the wide berth of stars stretching farther than anything else. It’s soothing, to be in the presence of so much uncontrolled beauty. She curls against the trunk with only a little pull in the muscles of her thighs.

_ The next time he comes and calls on me, I should make him wait while I stretch first. _

The mental image sends her into a fit of chuckles. 

A pained scream breaks the air, sending her heart into palpitations. Cautiously, she presses further into the leaves, even though it’d be easy enough to sniff out her scent if the being’s senses are refined enough. After a moment, the noise dies out. Breathing shallowly through her nose, she waits as long as her muscles can stand before jumping down to the ground. 

The forest spirit’s body rests in the dirt, drenched in blood. His face is more peaceful than she would have expected from all the gore. Kagura stretches her sleeve over her mouth and decides not to feel too bad.

_ All the times he chased me around the forest, throwing unwanted proposals as if I’m some rosy-cheeked, virginal wood nymph _ … _ perhaps he annoyed someone with even less patience. _

It’s only a few twists of her fan to bury the creature, simply because she doesn’t like seeing him lying across the ground like that. Then Kagura returns to her tree, and her stars. 

* * *

_ How is she still so cold, after spending so long in the damn bath? _

Her arms twist around his neck like a brisk autumn wind; he won’t give her the satisfaction of a shiver. Not that she’d notice; from the way the thighs on either side of his lap are trembling, she’s not thinking of much else except--

“Please_,_” she gasps, pressing her forehead hard against his. Her eyes are shut tight, teeth bared with all the tension, and he can’t look away. “Please, I--”

It’s all very, very wrong, because he’s not supposed to feel anything about it when she finally comes, cold arms pressing down hard on his shoulders. Hands keeping her steady dig their nails into her back. The action sends her wailing, and his mind stutters. 

“_ Mine. _” 

“Yours,” she breathes, and then he can’t think at all. 

It’s some minutes later, when she’s gathered enough strength to roll off of him, that their eyes meet. The realization hits each of them with the same strike. Kagura bolts up, expression swimming with panic. 

“You--what--” Her arm presses over her chest, knowing his claws could rip free the beating organ within it at any moment. Sesshomaru doesn’t move. Nor does he look away; despite the desperate flicker of her eyes dancing everywhere in the room, his gaze remains solid. 

Her lips move wordlessly before she gives up, slumping onto the bed. He continues to stare, even as Kagura blinks wearily up at the ceiling. 

“The whole time?” 

“It appears so.”

The hand on her chest smooths back and forth in a self-soothing motion. “Bastard. You made me think it was just me.”

Teeth glint in the moonlight. “You were the one teasing--”

“Only because you were so touchy about it. I didn’t think it was actually true_. _” Her eyes slide closed. “You basically told me that was all it was. How was I supposed to know?”

“You were _ not _ supposed to.” And he would have never admitted it, not in ten centuries. 

“You wouldn’t have said anything? Even if I decided to leave? Or tie myself to someone else?” At his dark look, she adds, “Hey, it could happen.” 

“I had no intentions to possess you. That remains true.” 

The silence stretches so long, he wonders for a moment if she’s fallen asleep. But then Kagura sits up, so quickly that it appears to make her dizzy. “How would you?” 

Sesshomaru growls at her. A long-suffering sigh carves its way out of her chest. “I’m speaking hypothetically, okay? Geez, you’re a piece of work.”

He doesn’t know how to answer her--partly because he doesn’t want to be talking about this at all. Partly because, once he admits it aloud, then he knows from the pain that he’ll want it. And partly for something else that, if suggested, will certainly turn their existences upside down if it's confirmed. 

“Oh, come on. I’ll tell you what I’d do first.” 

It’s a problem that such a statement is at all interesting to him. 

Gently, Kagura presses two fingers to the hollow of her throat. Knowing his eyes are locked in, she gives him a devilish smile. “If I were some foolish dog demon who found himself hopelessly devoted to a powerful, clever wind witch--” 

He growls again. Kagura flutters her eyelashes in a demand for patience. 

“--I would mark her right here. Permanently. So when she breathes, she’ll feel the tightness of the skin, and remember.”

It’s tempting. _ Incredibly _. 

Kagura’s fingers fall, and she rolls her eyes. “You don’t seem impressed.” 

So he is still capable of shielding some emotions from her; Sesshomaru breathes out in relief. Kagura leans back into the blankets, pouting. 

“Well, your turn. Where would you stake your claim?” 

He doesn’t intend to oblige her. But, as he’s coming to understand, dealing with Kagura means doing many things that contradict his vision of himself as an intelligent and self-controlled being. 

She jumps as he looms over her, one hand pressing down firmly on her fan arm. Despite the way her breath hitches, there’s no fear in her eyes--just curiosity. Delicately, he traces the scar to the left of her sternum--where he’d bitten down, the first time. 

“Here.” 

Kagura’s smile is wicked, and he admits resounding defeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggested Music: 
> 
> Niykee Heaton - The Bedroom Playlist Tour  
Austin Hull - 100 Ways  
The Weeknd - Wicked Games, High For This, D.D.  
Halsey - Eyes Closed  
Charlie Puth - Go Round 
> 
> Inspiration: 
> 
> The belief that Kagura deserves to get everything she wants (including great sex) and Sesshomaru deserves to suffer and pine, even if he doesn't realize he's doing it.
> 
> Thanks for all the love for this one~

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title comes from The 1975's song Sex. Chapter titles come from Wicked Games by The Weeknd. 
> 
> So, I don't really know where this came from, but it doesn't totally fit in the universe I've got going on in The After, so I thought I'd post it separately.


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